


Feel Safe (Like People, Like Plastic)

by enbyofdionysus



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, M/M, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-07
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-01-23 21:28:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1580159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enbyofdionysus/pseuds/enbyofdionysus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU in which Percy is a hustler and Jason is a rich, businessman's son.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Percy shifts against the wall, trying to get the cold brick behind him to feel like anything but cold brick. The jacket he’s wearing is too small, the shirt beneath it too thin. It creeps up to expose the line of skin above his jeans, making the night anything but comfortable. Not that the nights are ever comfortable when autumn starts to tip-toe down from New England. This was New York; comfort only came in the summer. Every other time was just too damn cold.

He peaks his head out of the alley and scans the street, but so far there aren’t any cars and no men cruising along the sidewalk. Part of him wants to leave his post, go off to warm up somewhere. He might just have enough change for a coffee. But Percy reminds himself that his rent is due in two days and he was already late last month and the month before that and the month before  _that_. He can’t do that anymore, has to get this month in ontime or else Mr. Gallagher will have no problem throwing him out on his ass and Percy doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

He’s just two handjobs and one blow away from being safe.

He pulls the jacket tighter around himself, arching his back a little along the wall as a car drives by and casts its headlights along his body. The driver slows a little, but continues along past the alley. Percy tries not to feel disappointed. It’s already two in the morning and while that may not be too late by other hustlers’ standards, Percy liked to be in bed by sunrise and that only gave him three and a half hours.

He’s thinking about his grocery list when another car starts to come along the road. Percy eyes it, immediately suspicious. It’s not like the sedans and station wagons he usually sees. No, this is a BMW 3 series, stark white and scratchless with tinted windows. It cruises slowly down the road and for a minute Percy wonders if he shouldn’t approach. Rich people don’t come to the streets for their sex; they order it. Which means this guy could be dangerous. However, no alarm bells have gone off in Percy’s head so far and when he comes into the BMW’s headlights, the car rolls to a stop.

The driver side window comes down slowly and to Percy’s surprise, the driver is a young guy, Percy’s age, with blond hair and piercing blue eyes. He’s handsome– No, he’s  _hot_ , with a strong jaw and a Roman nose, flawless save for a scar on his upper lip. He’s not the kind of guy who would ever even _need_ a hustler. In fact, the whole thing is so surprising that Percy doesn’t even consider the fact that there could be big money in this opportunity. Instead, he gives the driver a cocky grin, shifting his hips in a way that’s more flirty-casual than flirty-seductive, and raises an eyebrow at the guy.

“You in the right place, sweetheart?” Percy asks. “’Cause Carnegie Hall is  _thataway_.”

The guy doesn’t look insulted though. If anything, he looks a little surprised, if not amused, by Percy’s behavior as if he’s not used to being talked down to and the actual concept of it is extremely funny. “I’m not looking for Carnegie Hall,” he says and huh, his voice is as nice as his face. His eyes cast up and down Percy’s body slowly and the guy has the balls to return Percy’s grin. “How much?” he asks.

Percy licks his lips. “Depends on what you want to do,” he says. “100 for a jerk, 200 for a blow.”

“You put out?” the guy asks.

Percy tries to disguise his irritation with a smile. He doesn’t really want to go home with the guy; he needs more than one customer tonight. “I do. Though if you want my ass, it’s 500 per fif–”

“I don’t want your ass,” the guy says and at Percy’s confused look, he actually honest to god  _blushes_ and clears his throat. “I actually, uh, want you to fuck  _me_ , if that’s alright by you. Does $3500, work?”

Percy stares at him. “Thirty five,” he mutters. “Thirty five- _hundred_.”

The guy frowns. “Is that not enough?”

Percy comes to then, shaking his head. _Professionalism_ , he reminds himself. "It'll work.”

The guy grins again and he jerks his head to the right. “Hop in. I’m Jason.”

Percy hesitates. Usually, he doesn’t give out his real name, tells his customers his name is Jake or Ryan. Sometimes he uses his middle name and says it’s Ben. But there’s something about the guy, _Jason_ , that says he’s safe.

So he slides into the passenger seat and shuts the door, giving Jason a once over before saying, “I’m Percy.”

He gets a warm smile in return and suddenly Percy is weirdly excited to fuck this guy.

“Nice to meet you, Percy.”


	2. Chapter 2

The drive to the guy's place is just a little bit more than awkward. In fact, they're completely silent the whole time with Percy staring out the window like he's interested in the street lights that he's seen his entire life. It's when they start out of Brooklyn that Percy decides to break the quiet, peaking out of the corner of his eye at the man – _boy_ – named Jason.

He's gone all serious again, looking at the road ahead of him like it's something to conquer. Percy should be concerned, but it's actually kind of funny. “Are you clean?” he asks and jeez, his voice actually makes Jason jump a little.

“I've only been with one other person,” Jason says, sparing him a glance. “I'm clean.”

“That's not really what I meant.” Percy moves his hand in a small circle in front of him. “Are you, y'know, clean... back _there_.”

“Clean back there?”

“You look a little constipated.”

It's not really something a hustler should say to a client, especially not when they're getting paid $3,500 to be the one on top, but Percy can't resist. He's naturally a smartmouth and while it's usually subdued by his need for cash, there's something about Jason that's pulling it out of him. Luckily enough, Jason seems to like it.

He offers that smile again, although it looks a little exasperated. “I'm not used to picking up call boys.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I'm not a call boy. Call boys are upper class. Suits. Charm. The whole shabang. I think you picked out the wrong merchandise.”

“The merchandise is fine, _sweetheart_ ,” Jason bites back. “It doesn't matter where it comes from as long as it works, right? Are _you_ clean?”

“I use condoms.”

“But are you clean? And I don't mean your ass.”

Percy isn't sure if he should be honest. He decides to be. “No.”

Jason nods slowly, then asks in a more gentle voice that weirds Percy out a little, “Are you okay?”

“I'm a big boy,” Percy says and fuck, he actually _sneers_. “I can take care of myself.”

The BMW abruptly turns to pull over to the side of the road in a place that is most definitely not a parking spot and for a second, he thinks that does it, that Jason's finally going to throw him out of the car and tell him _forget it_ , he'll go find some other cheap guy on the road with a pretty face. Hell, Jason doesn't even need to buy someone, he could just go to a club and pick up as many boys as he fucking _wants_.

But then Jason is leaning over and grabbing a fistful of Percy's shirt (which is pretty much all there is to it) and suddenly they're kissing. It's too aggressive at first, all teeth and grunting sounds, elbows knocking into each other and knees going places they most definitely should not be going, but then it evens out and it turns into an actually _good kiss_ , one of the better ones Percy's had on the street. Jason has full lips and Percy wants to bruise them, nipping at the bottom one before licking the pain away and bringing his tongue into Jason's mouth. Jason's just as enthusiastic, one hand cupping Percy's cheek and the other at the nape of his neck, fingers tight in his hair.

When they finally break apart, gasping a little, Percy's grinning from ear to ear, more than a little surprised and entirely too interested. “Do I want to know why you needed to pull over to ravish me?”

Jason flushes a little and Percy actually finds it cute. “I don't really know, to be honest.”

“Wanted to shut me up?”

“No.”

And then Percy realizes why the little rich boy went and got himself a hooker. He grins a little wider, eyes crinkling with the force of it. “Got a submissive thing going on? Need to fuck someone rough and dirty?”

Jason snorts at that. “No.”

Huh. “Then why me?”

“Because you talk to me like a normal person would.”

“No one else talks to you like a normal person?”

“No.”

“And why's that?”

“My father's a kind of powerful guy. I'm actually surprised you don't know who I am.”

“I don't really care who you are to be honest,” Percy says and fuck, he feels Jason's dick jump at that through his expensive slacks. “All I know is you've got money that I want and a body that I want maybe a little bit more.” He reaches behind and feels the slope of Jason's back before giving his ass a squeeze. _Fuck_. “There won't be any prejudice here, sweetheart. You want to get fucked, fucked is what you'll be.”

That sends a shudder through Jason, but he gives a grin and pulls back toward the driver's seat again. “Good.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

The rest of the drive is silent save for the little breathe-y noises Jason lets out as Percy rubs his hand up and down his thigh while they drive. A grin spreads across Percy's face as he looks idly out the window to take in the neighborhood. He hasn't really been to the richer parts of town; they tend to make his blood boil more than fill him with inspiration like they did for Annabeth.

“Don't think about the people  _inside_ ,” Annabeth had said to him as she pulled his arm and finally brought them both to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk. “See? Look up there. Can you imagine building something like that? Something people would see every day, something tourists would stop and take photos of.”

“It takes money to build something like that,” he told her, handing her his too-small jacket. She scoffed as she pulled it over her shoulders.

“I'll get the money someday,” she said. “I'm gonna go to college. I'm gonna build something like that. No.” She squared her jaw and her eyes shined in the streetlight. “I'm gonna build something  _better_ . And then the whole world will know my name.” She turned and gave him a look of defiance as if daring him to prove her wrong. But Percy believed her. He still did. Annabeth wasn't like him; she was a runaway, she and Thalia and Luke. They always had the chance to go back. But still. Percy hoped Annabeth got her scholarship, got to go to college like she wanted. Gets her wish upon her star.

He frowns when he recognizes they're about to go down Broadway. It's not where he expected them to be going. And then a little light goes off in Percy's brain and he slowly turns to look at Jason in a whole new light. “You live in the Flatiron District.”

Jason glances over at him. “I told you, my dad's a kind of powerful guy.”

“Every successful man in New York City can be called  _powerful_ ,” Percy snorts. “You didn't tell me he was powerful enough to rent a condo for a million bucks a month.” 

Jason gives a disinterested shrug. “He's out of town for the weekend on a business trip to Haiti. That's the only thing I really care about at the moment.”

Percy's grin returns and he adjusts himself on the seat as they make a turn into a parking garage. “Is it?” He scratches at his chest, making sure his shirt rides up with his fingers and Jason gets an eyeful. The parking guy at the window gets one too, giving the two boys a look as Jason hands over his credit card.

“Maybe not the only thing,” Jason admits when they pull away to find a spot.

“That's what I thought.”

Jason lets out a soft laugh at that, making a right and pulling into a spot next to a Mercedes with a Connecticut liscense plate. “You really think you're some kind of hot shit, don't you.”

“Does it turn you off?”

“No.”

“Then yeah, I kind of do.” He leans forward then, smirking when Jason moves in for the expected kiss. “So maybe we should get upstairs so I can show you just why I think so.”

 

Surprisingly enough, they keep their hands to themselves while the elevator brings them up to one of the higher floors, but that doesn't stop Percy from sneaking glances. Jason does the same thing, which makes Percy like the guy even more.

Percy likes being in control, it's true. But he also likes it when the client gets into it. Percy doesn't have to think then, can rely on his instincts and react the way he was meant to. When a big guy has a hand in his hair and tells him to talk dirty, Percy has to think quick and that's a little difficult when you have ADHD believe it or not. How can you try and figure out what turns someone on verbally when you can hear their dumb grandfather clock in the living room – who _has_ those anymore? – and their dog has been staring at you through the wood of the bedroom door for the past seven minutes (you can _feel_ it)? Because sometimes “I want your big cock” doesn't cut it, especially when you _don't_ want it and the guy isn't big anyway.

Percy likes the guys who fuck him without much thought, who take control with a simple “What's off limits?” Rev 'em up and they're ready to go. Sometimes it's good; sometimes they hit his prostate at just the right angle. Percy thinks of Annabeth when they do that, thinks about her putting her hair up so her blond curls come up off her neck. He thinks about her breasts, the dimples of her back, the softness of her skin, her thighs. He thinks about his fingers in her, his tongue on her. His mouth waters at the thought of how she tastes. And then the guy will jack him off too hard, but Percy comes anyway. Money made.

Percy doesn't feel like he has to try too hard with Jason though. Jason said it himself, he likes how Percy seems to act like a normal person around him, like he doesn't give one shit what Jason thinks or where he comes from as long as he's able to pay. So Percy can be his little smartass self, can take what he wants as long as Jason gives the ok. And to top everything off, Jason _smells_ good, _looks_ good. He may not even have to think of Annabeth or Luke for this.

“This is our floor,” Jason says once the elevator comes to a stop and gives a small _ding_.

“Lead the way,” Percy purrs.

 


	4. Chapter 4

The interior of Jason's apartment almost pulls Percy out of character.

When Jason unlocks the door, it's like being let into a showroom on HGTV. There's so sign of anyone having ever lived there. The floors are a dark hardwood and where they aren't, they're covered in smooth white carpets. The windows are huge, lighting up the entire apartment with New York City's array of artificial stars until Jason flips the light.

Percy lets his eyes absorb everything, feeling very much like a stray dog let into Mr. Warbucks' mansion. It isn't that Percy's never fucked a rich dude before, but it's one thing to rent a motel on the outskirts of the city and let a guy in a suit fuck you for $500 per 15 minutes and another thing to see class difference glaring at you with its granite counter tops.

It fills Percy with a strange sick feeling, a mix of awe and loathing.

He swallows it down and turns to see Jason in the kitchen. He looks like he belongs there, crisp and blond and white. The picture boy of privilege.

Jason looks up and meets his eyes, offering a small smile. “Want anything to drink? I've got wine.”

Percy shakes his head. “Bottled water?”

“I'm not going to drug you.”

“Bottled water?” Percy asks again.

Jason complies, tossing him an unopened bottle from the fridge as he rounds the counter with his own glass of wine.

Percy watches him steadily, twisting the cap off. “So.”

“So,” Jason repeats.

They're silent for a whole thirty seconds, bringing each of their drinks up to their lips and holding eye-contact the whole time. Jason breaks first, his blue eyes fluttering to the bob of Percy's throat and pulling his lips away from the sweet burn of the wine.

Percy lets a few beads of water escape his lips as he pulls the bottle away. He smirks when Jason's eyes follow them and then snap back up to Percy's face.

“You got a bed for this?” Percy asks, casually bringing his left hand down to his tattered black jeans and squeezing along the outline of his cock. He doesn't miss the sound that escapes Jason's mouth. “Or would you prefer I give the floor a good waxing?”

“My bedroom's that way,” Jason says, gesturing with his head. He sets his wine glass on the kitchen counter and leads the way down the hall. Percy follows slowly behind, taking in what he couldn't in the car: the V of Jason's back, his ass tight against the denim of his jeans. The heat building low in his gut cuts drastically against the feeling of the cool granite as he shoves his water bottle beside Jason's glass.

Jason disappears into a room on the left and when Percy passes the door frame he already has his Henley pulled over his head and tossed to the floor. The bedroom is smaller than Percy was expecting, but it's just as white and just as open as the rest of the apartment.

He thinks about ruining it as he pulls off his leather jacket and sees Jason take in his wiry frame made muscular from his years on the swim team.

He thinks about covering the sheets in lube and cum as his eyes dance across Jason's chest and swollen biceps.

He thinks about tearing it all apart, about letting loose the hurricane that's been building in his veins since his mom died.

But he doesn't.

He moves forward, thrilled by the excitement in Jason's icy eyes, his cock filling at the noise Jason makes when he kisses him. It's soft, almost chaste, until Jason's hands come up to the back of his head and his fingers dig into the fuzz of his grown-out undercut, into his curls.

Percy licks back into Jason's mouth, lips sliding. He lets his hand fall to Jason's jaw, the skin soft against the pad of his thumb, against the heel of his hand. When Jason pulls back his lips are slick, reddening, and parted as he catches his breath. He fumbles for the edge of the bed and falls back onto the comforter, letting out a brief laugh as Percy quickly follows him, a shark in the water.

Percy catches his lips again, traps them with his teeth. It makes Jason shudder against him, hard and beautiful, and Percy reaches down to undo his belt like he needs it, like he'll die if he doesn't. He licks across the expanse of Jason's neck as he does it and Jason just leans his head back into it, giving him more room, letting Percy drag his canines across his skin.

“Fuck,” is all Jason gasps, his own hands stumbling down to his jeans and tugging them off with a lack of finesse Percy has nothing but respect for. His cock is hard in his briefs, already dripping with the slightest bit of pre-cum, and Percy can't help but grin. If it were any other occasion he would suck Jason off, would tease that spot just under the head until he cried, would make Jason fuck his mouth if he wanted his orgasm so badly.

But Jason didn't pay for a blow job.

Percy bends forward and then pulls back just as Jason leans in for the kiss. The tease makes him groan.

“From the front or back?” Percy asks, pulling Jason's briefs down as far as he can until Jason can kick them off himself.

Jason licks his lips. “The back.”

“Lube?”

“Second drawer.”

“Condoms?”

“Same.”

Percy holds the condom wrapper between his teeth, letting the lube drip down onto his fingers as Jason situates himself on his knees and elbows. It's a view Percy would have to remember for future clients: Jason's hole pink and wanton between two flushed cheeks, waiting for his fingers, for his cock. Percy sighs through his nose, almost heartbroken, and then settles himself behind Jason.

“Ready?” he asks around the condom wrapper.

“Mm,” Jason replies, turning his head sideways on the pillow beneath him.

Percy catches his eyes briefly before bringing his attention back to Jason's hole, pressing a finger into him slowly. The sheer warmth of him makes Percy shudder, but Jason's gentle groan is what makes his cock twitch. He's careful, knowing full well the pain of being badly prepped, waiting until Jason's writhing beneath him on three of his fingers before he even considers pressing his cock into him.

He gently pulls his fingers out of Jason's ass when he moans that he's ready and wipes his hand across the comforter to better get the condom out. Percy tears into the wrapper with his teeth, his nose scrunching at the sour smell of the latex, and rolls the condom onto his cock as quickly as he effectively can.

Jason wriggles on the mattress, spreading his thighs wider and holding onto the pillow beneath him, when he lines up with him. “Ready?” Percy asks for the second time, his lips quirking as he pours more lube into his hand and coats his cock with it.

Jason licks his lips, nodding. “Give it to me.”

Percy does, pressing the tip of his cock against the outside of Jason's hole and pushing, pushing, pushing, until Jason's muscles stop fighting him and he slides easily inside. The heat, the tightness, sends shocks to his core. He waits there, laying his body delicately over Jason's and peppering his back with kisses as Jason gasps and shivers beneath him.

He doesn't move until Jason tells him to and even then he struggles to keep in his own sounds. They escape despite his best intentions, quiet gasps and muted curses mixed in with Jason's paper-thin whines.

He knows as he begins to fuck Jason in earnest, skin smacking skin, that he isn't going to last long; he's a prostitute, not a porn star. So he settles for going harder, holding desperately to Jason's hips and driving in roughly as Jason cries out a string of garbled encouragements.

“Yeah?” Percy asks, his grin lost in the sheer effort it's taking him not to cum. “That how you like it?”

“Yeah,” Jason all but sobs into the pillow. He's clawing at the sheets with his other hand, his hips trying to drive back against Percy's cock in an attempt to match his rhythm. “Fuck me,” he gasps. “Fuck me, god, fucking _fuck_ me.”

Percy lets out a breathless laugh, feeling the sweat drip down from his forehead and across his cheek as he throws his hips forward. He gone, he knows it, the familiar warmth of his dawning orgasm breaking feverishly across his skin and slowly up into his cock. He reaches down to Jason's cock, flushed and hot to the touch, in an act of desperation and pumps it once, twice.

Jason comes with a cry, his thighs shaking, and the repeated clenching of his ass drags Percy over the edge with him. The sheer intensity of it crashes into him like a wave, pulling him apart bit by bit until he slides from Jason to the blanket, weak and boneless.

Jason follows slowly after, his hips gradually settling back down against the mattress.

It's quiet save for their breathing, both of them basking in the afterglow.

Percy's the first to talk, reminding Jason of his money.

Jason merely hums, gesturing to the dresser settled in the corner of the room where a single roll of money sits.

Percy isn't romantic. He gets up without cuddling, without wiping the come from Jason' stomach, without letting himself relax into the blankets.

He feels Jason watch him as he ties off the condom, as he crosses the room and counts the money out, as he pulls on his clothes. When he's done, Jason's on his back, hair mussed and face flushed with the skin of a body well-fucked.

“Leaving so soon?” Jason asks, but there's no disappointment in his voice. Percy appreciates that much. He hates clients that try to make his life into _Pretty Woman_.

“Gotta feed my cat,” Percy replies, raising an eyebrow.

“Mm,” Jason says. He stretches, smiling as he catches Percy's eyes scanning his body. “You should come back when you're done.”

Ah, fuck. “I should?”

“Or whenever you're free. Is $3,500 still okay with you?”

Percy stares at him, floored. “What?”

Jason sits up, running his long fingers through his hair. He meets Percy's eyes lazily. “I said is $3,500 still okay with you?”

“. . . Yeah.”

“Great,” Jason says, smiling slow. “I'll see you later then.”

Percy continues to stare for a long moment, but Jason's face says nothing ominous. If anything it says joy, satisfaction. His body, taught and excited in the BMW, was now sagging and relaxed. His eyes, bright and alert, were now half-lidded and hazy.

A job well done.

Percy smiles slowly back. “Yeah,” he says, “yeah, I'll see you later.”

Jason hums, laying back against the covers. “Good. Don't steal my shit.”

“I don't need to.”

“Good.”

He lets himself out.

 


End file.
